I Like You
by soundslikepeanuts
Summary: Les Amis all go on a fun-filled holiday to a lake house, where Courfeyrac comes to a surprising realisation while reminiscing on the weeks' events. Modern AU, pairings E/C, J/M/B, M/C, Jehan/Bahorel, with some E/R. Based on I Like You by SJ
1. Chapter 1

**Hi guys! Something a bit different to my usual, today :) This fic is going to be based on _I Like You, _a brilliant song by SJ, with each line bringing up a memory of the Lake House. They won't all be as long as this one, and there will be chapters with more than one lyric per chapter, but I wanted to set the scene a bit first. I highly recommend giving the song a listen to, it's adorable.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Les Miserables, or _I Like You, _or any of the other songs mentioned.**

* * *

**_PROLOGUE_**

Late one night in the summer of 2013, Adrien Courfeyrac lay wide awake in a bunk bed, staring up at the ceiling in contemplation. He was still wearing his suit trousers and shirt as he listened to the rhythmic snores of his friend Jehan on the bunk below him, completely unable to so much as rest his eyes for a second.

This was not something Courfeyrac was accustomed to. As a general rule, he was a very happy man; he had a great family with enough money to keep him comfortable – not to mention allow him to bring 12 friends to their island lake house – and a really fantastic group of friends, each one different but united by a brilliant sense of humour, and a genuine desire to look out for each other. They also believed passionately in social change, working tirelessly to help those less fortunate; a cause which Courfeyrac intended to support to the best of his ability, starting with his law degree. He was a good-looking and charming guy, and that combined with his passion for life meant he did pretty well with the ladies, too. He enjoyed life, and so soul-searching was usually an activity he teased his friends about rather than participated in himself.

Reaching over to the windowsill, he picked up his phone and checked the time: 4.13. _Gaaaaah why can't I sleep?!_ Sighing heavily, he put in his headphones in search of peaceful music as a solution.

Coldplay's _The Scientist _was no help.

_Cough Syrup _by Young the Giant did nothing.

Even _Love Love Love _by the The Mountain Goats had no effect. This was a dire situation indeed.

It was only when the soft, cheery melody of SJ's _I Like You _kicked in that he felt any different. Every lyric seemed to strike a chord in him, bringing to mind a memory from their week at the lake. Even stranger, the memories seemed to have a common denominator.

* * *

**_I like the way you look at me every time, you first come into my mind_**

"FINE! WE CAN GO ON HOLIDAY!" Enjolras yelled, throwing his arms up in frustration at his friends as they sat around the corner table of the Café Musain, their usual haunt during semester time. Actually, it was their usual haunt almost all of the time, since it was where they planned their rallies and protests; the headquarters of their activist group, Les Amis de l'ABC.

A great cheer rang out from the nine men and two women around the table that weren't Enjolras, including Courfeyrac himself, who high-fived his best friend Combeferre with a goofy grin. It had taken a long time time, a lot of whinging, some bribery, and a PowerPoint presentation, but it seemed they'd finally convinced Enjolras that a week at Courfeyrac's parents' summer house wouldn't be the disastrous setback for the cause he envisioned, but might even be _fun._

And so, in mid-July, before Enjolras could think of a reason not to, Courfeyrac found himself stood next to a rented minibus as his friends slowly started to arrive. Éponine was the first one there; she arrived in skinny jeans, a loose tank top, and leather boots and jacket, with a hold-all slung over her shoulder and a Natalie Dormer-esque smirk of greeting.

"Top of the morning to you, Miss Éponine! You're uncharacteristically early, if you don't mind me saying so?" he called across the car park.  
"Had to sneak out before the old woman got up and chained me to the bar. Are we the first ones here?"  
"Yep!"  
"How you are you this cheerful so early in the morning?!" Éponine laughed, her characteristic dimples appearing on her cheeks.  
"We're going on holiday! It's exciting!"  
"You're as bad as Gavroche."  
"That's why we get on so well. But on to more important business: predictions for the trip?"  
"Hmmm… Enjolras complains at least 300 times that we're getting nothing done."  
"Ha! Ok, Grantaire argues with him every time AND insists on driving the bus at least part of the way"  
"and nearly kills us all" she laughed "Joly has a nervous breakdown over the cleanliness of this minibus"  
"because Marius and Cosette are making out in the back"  
"and Musichetta is sass-mouthing them in Italian. OOH and singing along really loudly to the radio."  
"Good one… Bahorel starts a fight with a local"  
"Injuring Bossuet in the process, whether he's involved or not."  
"Leaving Combeferre to diffuse the situation like the father figure he really is"  
"Hmmmm…. Ooh, you'll pick up at least two girls on the ferry to the island."  
"It's like a 40 minute ferry!"  
"I stand by my statement."  
"…fair enough. Ok, at least 3 different guys will attempt to pick you up on the ferry, but you'll be having none of it and will instead throw small objects at Enjolras with Grantaire."  
Éponine laughed loudly. "Probably" she agreed. He liked it when she laughed. It made her seem a lot more approachable, and frankly, she didn't get to laugh enough.

It took approximately 18 minutes for the first prediction to come true. They all piled into the bus; Combeferre driving, Courfeyrac navigating, and Éponine two seats back next to Grantaire. Ferre hadn't even turned the key before Joly disgustedly announced that "this bus is positively RIDDLED with disease" to 12 peoples' groans. Immediately thinking of Éponine, he turned in his seat to look at her and found her turning to look back at him, with an eyebrow raised and a barely concealed smirk. The look made him almost laugh too, and he smiled happily as he fiddled with the radio, much to Combeferre's interest and amusement.

**1 hour later**

"TELL ME WHYYYYYY!" Musichetta warbled, loudly and out of tune.  
Feuilly – a usually quiet man who held a secret love of the Backstreet Boys deep in his heart – belted back (equally badly) "AIIIIIIN'T NOTHING BUT A HEAAARTACHE!"  
"TEEEEELL ME WHHYYYYY!" Courfeyrac finished telling Combeferre where to drive, and turned to catch Éponine's eye again, just as Feuilly bellowed "AIIIIN'T NOTHING BUT A MISTAAAAAKE, TELL ME WHY!"

She met his eyes seconds later, as though she'd felt him look at her. She grinned widely and mimed back enthusiastically, nose scrunched up and mouth wide in false power singing "IIIIII NEVER WANNA HEAR YOU SAAAAAY, IIII WANT IT THAAAT WAAAAY!"

Their eyes met as the verse kicked in, grinning at each other from across the bus.  
"Hey Courf, do I take this exit or the next one?" Combeferre asked.  
After a moment's confusion, Courfeyrac turned back around. "Errr… next one!"

**3 hours after that**

They'd stopped to get some food at a KFC by the road as they were about halfway to Toulon, where they'd catch the ferry. Combeferre had apologetically admitted he was exhausted and in no shape to continue driving, prompting the inevitable debate.

Cosette had piped up "I'll drive, I don't mind!" , to which Marius had replied "But I need you in the back with me!". At this, Musichetta had rolled her eyes and muttered "per l'amor del cazzo…", prompting another raised eyebrow smirk from Éponine. This time he couldn't contain a big goofy grin.

"I'll drive" offered Enjolras "but I'm not having that god-awful music on if I do"  
"The Backstreet Boys and Miscellaneous 1990s-early 2000s mixtape is non-negotiable" Feuilly announced firmly.  
"I need to map-read, I'm the only one who's been before" Courf apologised.  
"FOR GOD'S SAKE I'LL DRIVE!" Grantaire half-shouted, before climbing into the driver's seat and strapping himself in. He ignored the chorus of "NO!"s that followed, instead announcing "anyone who is not on this bus in 40 seconds is getting left behind, and you can walk home, bitches!"  
"But -!"  
He started the engine. Everybody scrambled for their seat. Once all 13 of them successfully in the minibus, Grantaire pulled out the car park like he was being chased by Libyan terrorists; Courfeyrac turned to look again, just before Éponine did. This time they couldn't contain the laugh, and sat giggling away as the rest of the bus looked on, bemused.

**4 and a half hours after that, on the car ferry from Toulon**

He stood looking out over the sea, his mind clear except for excitement. He loved the Île des Rêves, with its one tiny village marooned in a thick Mediterranean woodland and large freshwater lake taking up half of the island; and he loved the big old house by the lake where he'd spent every childhood summer. He was just contemplating how good the week was going to be, when a leggy blonde girl came over to him, smiling widely at him with a hand on her hip. They made small talk for a while – the weather, why they were going to Île des Rêves – but he couldn't help noticing her exceptionally irritating laugh, so when he took her phone number, it was really just so she'd go away. He turned back to the ocean, intending to forget the whole thing, but suddenly Éponine's smirk came into his head, and he turned around, expecting to have to go and look for her; but there she was, looking out over the other side of the boat, breeze teasing her hair. She turned around to look over the deck, catching his eye with a grin and her eyebrow raised above her aviator sunglasses. She'd also ditched the leather jacket, and he noticed he could see her whole side, and lacy dark blue bra through the long, loose armholes of her white tank top when she raised a hand to mock salute him. He didn't really know why he noticed that, but he did.

Weird.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2! Sorry, I know updates are slow (and not even nearly as slow as they are on my other stuff), I've been crazy busy! Will be speeding up in the next few days though, promise!**

**Disclaimer: still don't own Les Mis or I Like You**

* * *

_**I like the way you fit perfectly on my side**_

Finally on Île des Rêves, the minibus – with Combeferre back at the helm for everybody's safety – turned left down a thin track road, bringing the lake house Courfeyrac knew and loved into view. "That's it there" he announced with a grin, pointing it out.

The lake house was truly beautiful; it was two storeys and made of light-coloured stone, with shuttered windows on all sides, trimmed with red brick. The back of the house consisted mostly of two huge windows, with a paved area looking out over the exquisitely blue lake 100 or so feet away. The front and left sides of the house (facing the road) had a covered porch with rocking chairs, and a narrow stone path led down to the dock at the water's edge. Inside were 5 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, and spacious kitchen and living area, all hidden away in a secluded corner of the island rarely visited by locals and unknown to tourists. Courfeyrac knew every inch of the place; to him, it was home.

Nobody spoke for a second; they just took it all in, gobsmacked. It was only when Grantaire picked his jaw up off the floor that the silence was broken. "Courfeyrac, do you mean to tell me that THAT is yours?"

"Erm… yeah" he replied, a little awkwardly.

In typical Les Amis style, all the replies came at once.

"WHAT" (Feuilly)

"It's gorgeous!" (Musichetta)

"Reminds me of my family's place in Tuscany" (Combeferre)

"ARE YOU SHITTING ME?!" (Grantaire)

"You're so lucky, Courf!" (Cosette)

Éponine simply gazed silently out the window at the house, a small half-smile on her face. As everyone else chattered excitedly, she turned to look at Courfeyrac and said "Remind me, how exactly I got in with you posh boys, again?"

"We were amused by your streetwise charms" he jokingly replied.

She grinned, then looked back at the house and admitted "well, I'm pretty glad of that right now."

Courfeyrac laughed.

They all piled out of the minibus, under strict instructions from Jehan that if they weren't back in ten minutes for a group photo he'd hurt them in ways they couldn't even imagine. Once the ten minutes had passed, with bags dumped in rooms and jeans switched for shorts, everyone congregated out the back of the house with their unimaginable punishments postponed for another day. Well… almost everyone.

He was on his way downstairs when he heard her, and he stopped to wait for her.

"You wouldn't believe this place, Gav, it's incredible. Like, the most beautiful place I've ever seen; it feels like the Queen of England should stay here or something… Hahaha I'm not sure that title really qualifies me to stay here, whatever Montparnasse says… has he?... not again... you stay clear of him, d'you hear me?... Just avoid him, it's only a week until we're back… no, Courf's not here right now, but I'm sure he misses you too bud… I know…. Ok, I… yeah, I'll see you then, ok?...take care of yourself, little man… I know, I know, sorry – oi watch your fucking mouth!... I love you, you cheeky shit, see you soon...bye!"

It occurred to Courfeyrac that Éponine probably wouldn't want him to have listened to that conversation, and he was about to turn and go when he heard a sniff that sounded suspiciously like tears. He crept up the few steps he had descended, and then poked his head around the door with a knock. "You ok?"

"Hmmm? Oh, yeah." She replied, turning to face him with a big false smile plastered on her face. She'd switched the skinny jeans for very short, light blue, ripped denim cut-off shorts.

Dropping the pretence, he admitted "I thought I heard you crying…?"

"Oh, no! No, just eh… allergies. Not used to the countryside" she joked. When he only raised an eyebrow, she rolled her eyes and ran a hand through her long brunette hair. "I called Gav to check he was ok" she admitted with a wry smile. "I don't like leaving him with them, especially not when Mont-… people are sniffing around."

"He's a tough cookie, and he knows his way around. You've taught him well" Courfeyrac reassured her.

"I know, I just… worry" she laughed.

He grinned at her, holding his arms out for a hug. "Come here, you old softie" he teased, wrapping an arm around her slender shoulders. "Better get down for that photo or Jehan'll have our skins for coats."

"I think he'll be more inventive than that" she joked. "Unimaginable tortures, remember?"

"Crikey, I suppose we'll just have to beg forgiveness" he laughed.

They bantered all the way outside, falling onto their knees and pretending to beg for mercy when Jehan shouted "LATE!" Standing up, they supported each other as they laughed, arms wrapped around each other's waists the whole time the photo was organised and taken (all 9 times… Jehan). It was only as Courfeyrac lay in the dark on the last night with his headphones in, gazing at the group photo on his phone that he noticed how perfectly Éponine's short, slender body matched up with his side; they were like giant pieces of a jigsaw. He also noticed how happy Éponine's grin was, next to his own trademark crooked smile. Actually, it was a great photo all round; Jehan had finally convinced Enjolras to smile, and Grantaire and Bahorel's middle finger and smile combination summed the pair of them up perfectly. They all looked like the happy, slightly crazy, dysfunctional family they were.

* * *

**I'd love to hear from you all, please drop me a review if you can! :D Thanks again :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm back! Sorry, dreaded block appeared for this one, and also I'm currently on holiday in Crete! It's super hot and I'm burned to a crisp, but it's gorgeous - anyway, my point is I typed this one out in the hotel bar with a mojito in my hand, so please point out my inevitable grammar issues**

**hope you're all well, thanks for the reviews on that last one, keep them coming! :)**

* * *

_**I like the way you hold my hand**_

The thing about Les Amis was that it took more than a 9 hour journey to tire most of them out. So after the group photo, the discussion was not "should we make some dinner and have a quiet night?" but rather "WHEN CAN WE DO STUFF AND WHAT STUFF CAN WE DO?!"

As it was almost half past six, there were at most three hours of daylight remaining, which ruled out anything that required too much organisation. In addition to this, the small but vocal number of tired people amongst them didn't want to miss out on something really exciting. Eventually it was decided that they would explore the woods surrounding the property; as long as they didn't go too far they'd be back before dark, and it provided a bit of organisation-free entertainment. Falling into step beside Feuilly and Enjolras, Courfeyrac chatted easily with his friends as they made their way into the woods.

It wasn't especially thick woodland; while the trees were fairly old and large, they were spaced well enough that walking amongst them was easy; there were a fair few shrubs, but otherwise the ground was mostly dirt covered in leaves or a little grass. As a child, Courfeyrac had ventured a little way into the forest, but the combination of a keen-eyed mother calling him back and plenty to entertain him back at the house meant that he'd never gone especially far. So it surprised him as much as it surprised everyone else that the woods got much thicker further in.

Where previously it was easy to walk three abreast with Enjolras and Feuilly, joining in with their chatter of the weather and childhood holidays - or lack thereof - and (of course) politics, it suddenly became more difficult to do so. As it happened, the conversation was also getting increasingly passionate and political, and though Courfeyrac's passion for the cause was strong, it did not stretch to already tired and sweaty walks through woodland. So when he caught a glimpse of Éponine through the vine-covered trees, he took the opportunity to seek less impassioned conversation.

What he didn't expect was to fall down a leafy ditch and lose his bearings, then have to scramble up the bank back to the path. He also didn't expect her to have completely disappeared once he reached the spot he thought he'd seen her in. Though the route through the trees ahead was fairly clear, it was also decidedly empty.

Confused, he was about to turn for home when from behind his head a husky whisper of "_we're ALL mad here!" _Jumping out of his skin with a small scream, he spun around to find Éponine's upside-down face in a fit of laughter. Her legs hooked over a branch a little way up in a tree, she shook with laughter as he looked at her; one arm hanging down so that her fingers tangled in her curls below her head, the other holding her loose top onto her body.

"Jesus, Ép, I nearly shit my pants!" he laughed once he worked out what was going on, running a hand through his curls in relief.  
Still helpless with laughter, she shook, spluttering out "did you… just… SCREAM?!"  
He almost blushed, but repressed it. "NO!"  
"You… you… did!"  
"It was a squeak at worst!"  
"AHHHH!" she false-screamed, voice high and feminine; mouth a mocking "o", eyes wide.  
"It was not that bad!" He protested, which only made her laugh harder. "I got a shock!"  
Éponine was still laughing, so he tickled her ribs in revenge; a successful endeavour, because soon shouts of "Ahh! No! Mercy!" and Courfeyrac's own booming laugh joined Éponine's giggles in disturbing the silence of the quiet woods. When she finally composed herself enough to pull herself upright, she turned around on the branch to look down at him with a grin.  
"You coming up, or what?" she teased, eyebrow raised.

Courfeyrac had never climbed a tree in his life. If he was honest, he wasn't entirely sure he liked the idea; it seemed very high… and how did you get down afterwards, exactly?"  
"I suppose I could" he replied, with a smile to hide his nerves. "The question of the day is how we get down afterwards."  
"…we climb" Éponine answered, as though it was obvious.  
"But…"  
"Come on, rich boy, haven't you ever climbed a tree before?"  
"I mean... of course, you know, every Tuesday, after, erm..."  
"Oh my God you've never climbed a tree before!" Éponine realised, an accusing finger pointed at him, gleeful surprise all over her face.  
_Dammit. My nerves betrayed me. _"Of course I've climbed a tree before" he lied.  
"So climb this one" she challenged.  
"It's getting late, we should get back" Courfeyrac tried.  
"We've been like half an hour!"  
"But –"  
"Come on, I'll talk you through it."  
There was truly no way out of this. He supposed he could walk away, but where was the fun in that?  
"FINE!" he declared, putting one foot on the lowest branch. _You will regret this _he told himself, exasperatedly.

When he was finally sitting safely on the branch next to Éponine, and she had stopped laughing at his less-than-graceful climbing skills, Courfeyrac decided it was probably worth his death-defying assent. Something about the loss of all Courf's dignity allowed Éponine's guard to drop slightly; just enough to allow a free-flowing conversation about nonsense to run on, without any awkward silences at all. A few personal details even slipped out; she told him she'd been a pick-pocket in her youth, running and hiding in the canopies of the tall trees in the Jardin du Luxembourg on the rare occasion someone noticed her as she went about her "trade". "You get good at climbing pretty quickly" she observed. "A night or two in custody does that; or a knock-about from some rich fella who catches you with your hand in his pockets."

Courfeyrac listened with amusement; he wasn't judgemental by nature, and even if he was, what would be the point in condemning Éponine's past brushes with the law? The past was in the past, and her parents' reputation was notorious enough that he didn't blame her for wanting to be out the house. Pick-pocketing would at least keep her away from her father's gang.

Most of their conversation wasn't nearly so serious, however; they touched on every subject from music to Enjolras' hair, and before they knew it, the woods seemed to be shrouded in dusk.  
"Does it seem dark to you?" he asked, afraid he knew the answer.  
"Ermm… yes. It does." Éponine replied. "What time is it?"  
He checked his phone; quarter past 9. There were also 6 missed calls from various Amis, undoubtedly questioning where the hell he'd got to. "We should probably get back, I guess."

He'd barely got the sentence out before she was on the forest floor. "Coming?"  
His heart started to beat rather quickly, and he felt glued to the branch. This was not going to be fun. "How, exactly?" he asked, his voice squeakier than he remembered it being.  
To his great relief, instead of taking the piss, Éponine just smiled slightly and said "See the branch below you? You need to turn so you're on your stomach, holding onto your branch with your arms, then just lower yourself until you reach that one."  
"But –"  
"You can do it" Éponine interrupted, her voice unusually without mockery, and filled with reassuring confidence. The voice of someone who knew what they were doing. So he slowly, carefully turned, holding on to the branch for dear life, before lowering inch-by-inch to the branch below. After a few more similar movements, he was on a low, thick branch, with no viable branches directly below him. Then came the command he dreaded: "Ok, now jump."  
_Absolutely not. _"No."  
"You can't just stay there all night."  
"Why not?"  
"Courfeyrac!"  
"Ok I know why not. But I can't _jump._"  
"You aren't even high off the ground" she laughed.  
"High enough" he countered, stubbornly.  
"Look, I'll catch you" she answered, her slender, brown arms held out as though to grab him.  
"You are _not_ strong enough to hold my weight" he pointed out.  
"Will you just jump?!" she sighed, exasperated.

Steeling himself for death, he jumped. Éponine's arms stayed where they were, and he landed with barely a sound. She burst out laughing again. As it turned out, he'd almost been at the ground anyway. Oops.  
He shoved her shoulder to stop her laughing, and they set off back towards the house, chuckling together.  
"At least you didn't scream" Éponine pointed out. He pushed her in a bush.

They'd been walking for about ten minutes when it started to get really dark. He could barely see the ground, and the tiny girl next to him was only distinguishable by her top and the whites of her sparkling eyes.  
"We should be careful" Éponine said. "I can't see the way."  
"We'll get back" Courfeyrac stated confidently. "I think I know whereabouts we are, which means it's not far.  
"Ok" she replied. They walked a few more steps in silence, before she continued "you know where you're going?"  
"Yeah, think so." He reassured.  
"These trees all look the same to me" she said. And then she took his hand, prising his fingers apart with her own.

He was struck almost immediately by how right it felt: her tiny hand in his large one; her long, slender fingers laced with his chunkier ones. How soft her palms were, between callouses. How her grip wasn't too tight, but it was secure enough to hold on comfortably. How this purely platonic gesture made the back of his neck a little sweaty, for some reason.

"If you _ever_ tell the others – ESPECIALLY Bahorel or Cosette– about this I'll put all your clothes in a tree so high you'll never reach them" she threatened. "But I am NOT getting eaten by a bear because you lost me."  
"I won't say a word" he promised, grinning to himself.  
"Good. Then I won't mention to Grantaire that you scream like a girl."  
"I DO NOT!"  
"Yeah, you do."

Bickering companionably, they walked hand-in-hand all the way to the edge of the woods. Courfeyrac noticed how empty his hand felt once Éponine's had gone, and how the feeling seemed to sit heavy in his belly. But he supposed he must just be hungry.

* * *

**Please review, it makes my day! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Another day, another chapter, another mojito. Grammar rules from the last chapter still apply - thanks for the heads up about the ones there, will change them when I get a minute!**

**Will also reply to reviews next time I get more than 50 cents for internets**

**Thanks for support, friends!**

* * *

_**And bury your head in my chest  
Every time you're tired, every time you want to rest**_

Finally back at the house, after explaining their absence to the others (no mention of screams or hand-holding), Éponine and Courfeyrac sat down with the others to enjoy some reheated pizza and a few drinks.

Who were they kidding, it was Les Amis… drinking games were inevitable.  
"LET'S PLAY TRUTH OR DARE!" Grantaire shouted, producing an empty whiskey bottle from God knows where. "CIRCLE UP, YOU TWINKS."  
Courfeyrac sat on the floor next to Éponine, backs leant against the sofa. "I'm not nearly drunk enough for this" he murmured to her, making her smile.  
"I'm way too tired for this. Defending my Never Backs Down title promises to be exhausting work. Either that or I'm about to become the group bike." She muttered back, ruefully.  
"Group bike?"  
"We have three females in the room and two of them are in relationships. These are grown men playing truth or dare. Do we think the single female's mouth is going to remain her own for long?"  
He laughed. As if on cue the bottle was spun, pointing directly at Bossuet.  
"Of _course _you're first, Bossuet. Truth or dare?"  
"Dare"  
"Make out with Pony."

* * *

She wasn't wrong about the high volume of kissing she'd be doing, but what really did for Éponine was her determination to never back down from a bet, combined with her extraordinary bad luck with regards to the spin of the bottle. An hour later, she'd been made to hang upside down from the porch roof like a bat and sing the national anthem (every verse) in the style of Dracula; eat the unidentified mouldy object they found in the fridge; and run in her underwear to the main road, wait for a car to pass, twerk at it, and then run back. Apparently with the last one, she'd taken it a step further; instead of a twerk or two, a full dance and gymnastics routine met the poor farmer minding his own business on the drive back from the village. Never let it be said that Éponine Thénardier didn't rise to a challenge.

Courf leant against the doorframe of the front door as she returned from her main road dash, pulling her t-shirt back over her head as she walked up to the house. After stepping back into her shorts, she trudged over to him, a cheeky but exhausted grin plastered on her face.  
"Have fun?" he asked, supressing a laugh with difficulty.  
"It's actually quite liberating" she laughed, before stepping towards him, and leaning her head against his chest in pure exhaustion. "Why do I do this to myself, Courf?" she groaned.  
"Because you'd rather die than back down" he responded.  
"Oh yeah" she said, as though she'd forgotten. "That was it."  
He chuckled, wrapping his arms around his tiny friend. She laced hers around his waist, snuggling into his chest. "I am so ready for bed" she mumbled into the crook of his armpit.  
"Come on, fearless warrior. You can do it. They'll get bored in a minute." Wrapping his arms more tightly around her, he picked her up; just a few inches off the floor, but enough to waddle through to the living room with her in tow, groaning into him about mouth-based prostitution and pillow withdrawal.

* * *

_**I like the way your face looks when you sleep**_

Funnily enough, Éponine was not the only one who felt the evening had really gone on long enough, and before long everyone had trooped upstairs to bed. Éponine was sharing with Bahorel and Grantaire in "the party room", as Grantaire had dubbed it, or the Second Guest Room, as it was usually known. Courfeyrac was in the "kids' room", sharing bunk beds with Jehan.

Jehan had started spouting off about the poetic merits of sleeping nearer the ground, where the grass grew and one could be more connected to the world around, and though Courfeyrac suspected that it was much more to do with Jehan's sleepwalking habit than it was the "poetic merits" of the bottom bunk, he quickly offered to take the top. This was fine until about half past two in the morning, when he woke up in desperate need of the toilet.

After performing some careful gymnastics to get his feet onto the ladder, Courfeyrac crept out of the room, hastily tiptoeing his way to the bathroom. Once he was finished, hands washed, he prepared for the silent creep back across the hall to his bed. He was halfway there when he saw the wide open door to the Second Guest Room.

In typical style, Grantaire, Éponine and Bahorel had elected to ignore the airbed at the bottom of the bed for one of them and share the small double bed in the centre of the room. Spooned close together, the trio had clearly fallen asleep mid-joke, based on Grantaire's still-grinning face. With Bahorel's left arm draped across her waist, Éponine lay fast asleep between her two best friends, having apparently turned onto her back in her sleep. He found himself watching with a small smile; with her hair fanned out behind her on the pillow, her chest steadily rising and falling in time with her regular breathing, and a small smile still on her face, his tiny friend had never looked so peaceful in all the time he'd known her. One eyebrow was slightly arched above her closed eyes; her thick eyelashes resting on the smooth brown skin of her cheeks, which blushed a slight pink as she dreamed. She looked so serene; at once innocent and all-knowing, her barely-there smile full of secrets. Courfeyrac's gut was torn; wake her up and learn the secrets, or leave her be, let her enjoy the few peaceful hours she'd had all day. He was still working out what he wanted to do when the door to his own room creaked, and a nightshirt-clad Jehan (don't worry, they'd all taken the piss when they found out he wore a _nightshirt_) shuffled onto the landing, mumbling incoherently under his breath.

Turning to look at her once more, the spell was broken. Éponine had turned back onto her side, the magic enigmatic smile buried in Grantaire's back, out of his view.

"Come on Jehan, back to bed" he sighed, directing his sleeping friend back to the bottom bunk.

* * *

**please review! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello again! Thanks so much for all the feedback on the last few chapters, it means a lot! :D**

* * *

_**I like your legs crossed over me**_

You'd think that something as simple as deciding to play hide-and-seek would be… well, simple. But then you wouldn't be taking three important factors into account: 1. twelve people are a lot for one person to find, so they decided to work in pairs 2. Les Amis are an exceptionally competitive bunch, so everyone wanted the "best" partners (Courfeyrac, Éponine, Feuilly… basically anyone but Bossuet), which meant the names had to be drawn out of a hat to shut them all up 3. Drawing the names out of a hat did not successfully shut them all up.

In any case, Courfeyrac volunteered to carry the hat of names around the group to pair people up. "Ladies first" he had announced, presenting the hat to Cosette with a flourish. She withdrew Enjolras' name. Musichetta followed, pulling out Bahorel. He turned to Éponine next, holding out the hat with one hand behind his back, chest puffed out like a butler, and one eyebrow raised. She reached out to grab the name and unfolded it carefully, before grinning. "It's you and me, punk. Better get yo hiding hat on." she said. He grinned widely at her, saluting her with an "aye-aye, captain!"

Team Joly and Combeferre volunteered to seek first, holing up in the utility room to count. The rest of them scattered in search of hiding places.

"Courf, I think we have a distinct advantage" Éponine murmured as they set off in search of hiding places. "And that is the combination of _insider knowledge _provided by you, and_ years of experience of avoiding capture _provided by me. _Sherlock Holmes_ would struggle to find us; Joly and Ferre have no chance."  
"OK" Courfeyrac replied quietly. "I have two ideas. One requires a small amount of acrobatics, and comes with the possibility of being joined in our hiding place by a large quantity of spiders, and possibly a ghost. If my childhood research was accurate. The other will be much more comfortable to sit in, but walks the fine line between bending and breaking the rules. Specifically the "inside only" rule."  
"That's my favourite line, option 2 it is." Éponine answered decisively, grinning.

* * *

When Courf thought of hiding places, he immediately thought of the porch cupboard. An innocuous wooden box, about chest-height high, painted the same light colour as the stones of the house, and tucked into the corner of the porch, it was used to stash his toys in when he was small. It would be a pretty good hiding place anyway, but when you knew about the loose panel in the back which could be snuck through to a tiny rectangular space built into the wall of the house, it became a brilliant one. Courf took the panel out and whispered to Éponine to go through.

"What?!"  
"Go through, there's – never mind, I'll just show you." He crawled through the small hole, turning around to sit down when he got into the secret space. "Come through" he whispered.  
She frowned in confusion, but followed him into the cupboard, closing the doors behind her. "Shit, I can't see now" she laughed. "Is that your foot? Sorry!"  
When he turned the torch light on his phone on, he saw her and started to laugh. She was on her hands and knees with her head and shoulders through the hole and the funniest expression on her face; pure incredulity and confusion. "Courf, is this where your family stashes the bodies? Should I be worried?" she asked, only half joking.  
He laughed quietly, replying "I'll explain when you get in here."  
"Dude, there's no way we're both getting in there." She had a point, he realised. The last time he'd been in here, he'd been about 9; at least half the size he was now. So when he remembered a roomy cupboard with room for two, he'd grossly underestimated the proportion of the space he'd take up all on his own. Two Éponines would just about fill it, and she was , barely 5 foot tall.  
"Erm… try getting in like over here?" he gestured to the area opposite him. She twisted around, trying her best, but it became immediately obvious this was not going to work when she knocked her head on the side of the hole with an "oof". He burst out laughing, and as he did so, she fell sideways over his legs, her head on his stomach, unable to stop laughing.  
"When you said this would be more comfortable…?" she spluttered out through the laughs  
"I forgot I'm not 9 anymore" he admitted, his shoulders shaking with mirth.  
She shimmied backwards, finally able to plonk her butt down onto the floor of the room, her back against the wall and her legs hanging over Courf's waist. "There's nowhere for my legs" she whispered, trying in vain to contort them somehow so they'd rest on the floor next to her.  
"It's ok, just rest them on me."  
"Sure?"  
"Yeah, it's fine." _I quite like it actually _he thought to himself.  
"Thanks." She crossed them over his thighs, finally able to look around the space as Courf replaced the panel on the back of the cupboard. "Genuinely, is this where you stash bodies?"  
He laughed "it was built with the house to stash gold and stuff, I think. My dad used to keep beer in here though, when it wasn't being used as my den."  
"What like, gold bars?! Seriously?!"  
"I think so"  
"Are your family in the Mafia? You have to tell me if they are. Will I wake up tomorrow with a horse's head in my sheets?"  
He laughed "you caught me. Expect a disgusting visitor to your bed in the night."  
"See, now I can't tell if you mean a dead horse or Grantaire."

* * *

It was hard to gauge time in the dark confines of the cupboard, especially once they'd turned their phones off to prevent anyone hearing a text tone or vibration and finding them. As they chatted easily to each other in hushed voices, Courf began to realise the effect being in such close quarters together was having. As time passed, he was becoming more and more _aware _of his body and Éponine's, and the differences between them. He was easily the biggest of his friends after Bahorel, mostly due to his stocky build; he wasn't fat or even overly muscular – though he was more committed to his gym routine than he cared to admit – but chunky, with wide shoulders and thick arms and legs. He was also tall – a few inches over 6 feet. His Grandfather claimed he was fat, but his Mother used to protest, saying it was to hold all his personality; which to be fair, was also big and bold. To be honest, Courf liked being that size; it made it hard for people to push you around, so you could always be right where the fun was… and it didn't hurt that the girls seemed to love it, either.

Éponine, on the other hand, was everything Courf wasn't. Despite her tall parents she was tiny, only just clearing 5 feet tall aged 17 (she'd got very excited, claiming she was finally getting her growth spurt… but now she was 20 and hadn't grown an inch more she'd resigned herself to a lifetime of short jokes). It didn't help that a lifetime of little food had left her permanently skinny – her matchstick limbs and defined hip and collar bones were just a few of the clues about her less-than-ideal upbringing. Despite all this, she still had a woman's body; even her minute, comfort-seeking movements in the hiding place brought attention to it. She seemed entirely made of smooth curves; from the high arches of her feet to her ankles and up her long legs, then around her narrow hips to her tiny, tiny waist, over her small chest, up her neck, right to the dimpled swell of her cheeks. She was also all limbs: where Courf was bulky and fairly compact, she was long and lithe, despite her small stature; her long, slender legs and arms seemed endless – almost too long for her – using up the majority of the space she occupied.

"Staring at me is not making me feel better about being trapped in your secret rape dungeon" Éponine teased.  
"Hmm? Oh, sorry… just daydreaming."  
Éponine breathed a small chuckle. "You're an idiot."

In truth, it was hard _not _to stare at Éponine. Not when you could really recognise the beauty in her. Once you knew the little white circles on her collarbone were old burns; that the dark shadows on her arms were the ever-present grab-marks; that across the palm of her left hand ran a long, thick scar which she'd never explain, you'd wonder how she could smile at all, let alone smile so widely and so _joyfully_. She had a smile that promised the world… and sometimes a smirk which made you feel like she knew exactly when that world was going to end.

"How long have we been in here?" she asked.  
"I have no idea… I haven't heard anything from inside for a while though."  
"They're never going to find us out here are they?"  
"It's unlikely."  
"Hmm." She was quiet for a second, apparently weighing up whether she should say something. It took a minute or two, but she finally blurted out the little words he'd been thinking for a while now himself.  
"I need to pee."  
"Oh thank God. Me too, let's go."

* * *

**Sorry it's a bit shorter and a bit _meh. _I'd love a review if you've got a minute? :) :) :) (pretty please)  
**


End file.
